Oceanic Blue
by itstheponds
Summary: Eight more passengers are explored this time. See how they change the lives of the original passengers, completely mess with them, or maybe even make them a little happier. The head of the problem appears to be a young girl, Sidney Hawke.
1. Chapter 1: The Wild Beach Party

**A/N:** Hello, waterskins (Kai) here. This is kind of my first Lost fanfiction, to be honest, but I've been working on Oceanic Blue for at least a year, adding and removing characters and twisting plotlines (and changing the title…) until I was semi-satisfied with what I've got! Yes, this is an OC-centric story, but it revolves mostly around 1-2 of those characters, and in a way, all of them mess with the storyline a little. It's been fun so far! Here's my most updated version of the story, and I hope you'll enjoy it.

**(Makeshift) Summary:** Oceanic 815 crash-lands on a mysterious and creepy island in September, 2004, as we all know. However, the original lives of Lost's original castaways get twisted and stretched when a new set of eight middle section passengers' lives on the Island are explored as well. Different lives are saved, destroyed, ended, and made wonderful all at the same time as the eight of them settle into their own niches and get into their own trouble, with the help of Lost's original Oceanic passengers. Which storylines will they change? Who will die this time? A few OC/OC pairings, Claire/Charlie, Shannon/Sayid, Jack/Kate/Sawyer, Boone/OC, Sun/Jin, maybe even some Boone/Claire.

Thank you!

* * *

In a flash, his hazel eyes opened, widening so much that they started to ache. The sun crept into view again, forcing Mercutio to close his eyes. As he sat up—or at least tried—he felt a dull pain in both his back and calf. Mercutio fought through the pain and wobbled to his feet before he came to his senses. The sand under his feet, the hot outside air, the blinding sun, and the screaming of other people was a dead giveaway. The other passengers—and they were in pain, too.

He wanted to act fast, but as soon as he tried to run at the sound of a young woman screaming a name, Mercutio fell face first into the sand. His fingers curled around the grains as they stuck to him and as he lifted himself up once more, onto his knees.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man in a suit run from between a patch of bamboo. He was about to call out to him, just to make sure that his own voice was working and that he wasn't in fact dead yet. Mercutio followed the man with his eyes until he really took everything in. The sun no longer blinded, nor did it shield him from reality.

The plane's head, mimicking that of a toy plane that'd been ripped to shreds by an angry child, was splayed all over a beach that would have otherwise been gorgeous. If only their plane hadn't crash-landed on top of it, it would have been perfect. The other passengers were running around in what seemed like circles, and all Mercutio could truly take in were metallic shrieks, and the ever-present human shrieking that layered on top of everything else.

He watched as the engine still rattled, probably still spinning as if it could fix everything if it kept trying and trying. A man with blonde hair was approaching the twirling engine, most likely unaware of how dangerous it still was. Or maybe he was too in shock to notice.

"Walt! Walt!" Another man hollered.

One woman's screams in particular towered over everyone else's. She had the lungs of a banshee, Mercutio thought. And then he thought again to himself how he should be helping the others. Why was he only watching his fellow passengers? Why couldn't he stand up and do something?

He tried. He tried to stand, but to no avail. Mercutio fell onto the sand again, and this time he landed only a few feet from where he'd just been. Trying once again to push himself up, he failed once more, and his eyes closed, the heat and exhaustion bringing him out of consciousness.

"Ma'am, Ma'am, are you alright?"

The woman kept sobbing, holding her stomach with the arm she didn't have slung around Joe's shoulder. Her face, sandy and wet, was contorted; she was probably a pretty woman, when she wasn't panicking for her life.

"Does it hurt, does your stomach hurt?"

"Hey, you! Get her away from here!" shouted another girl. Joe turned to say something back, but she was gone in a flash of brown skin, black hair, and blue jeans.

"Who the hell was that…?"

The woman seemed to calm herself down, breathing deeply as a few more hysterical tears dripped down from her eyes. One of her hands stuck to his shoulder like a claw as she kept holding onto her belly. "Please, please, I need to sit down. Help me, please."

"Of course—of course," Joe said, bringing her gently over to where the beach met with the forest. "What's wrong?"

It took her a long time to answer. "Nothing…I think I'm fine. At least, I _think_ so. Oh, God, I hope so," she cried, appearing as if she was about to burst into tears again. "I'm pregnant! What if something happened to my baby?"

Joe's mouth dropped open. "Goddamn it," he muttered. "Um, um, okay, let's try to stay calm, ma'am—"

"And _stop_ calling me that! I'm not even thirty yet!"

"Oh. I'm sorry, um, but I don't know your name!"

"Jasmine! Jasmine Blum."

"Okay. I'm sorry I called you ma'am, Jasmine. I'm Joseph Saylor. Joe."

Jasmine took a few deep breaths. "Thank you, Joe, but it's alright. I'm just, just not feeling like myself right now. Everything's a little crazy as you can see."

"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed—"

As Joe attempted his joke, a man's shouting of "Get her out of there! The wing!" that nearly covered everything else cut him off, followed by the boom of a huge explosion as he protected another pregnant woman. Across the beach, Joe could see a large piece of burning debris fly from it, landing frighteningly close to a passenger.

"Good grief, I hope there was a doctor on board."

Jasmine stared off into the burning, smoking wreckage. "I do, too, Joe."

— — —

He'd been awake when they hit—he'd been wide-awake, wide-eyed, and beaten by luggage so hard that one had smacked into his leg with incredible force. Nicolao Ramirez had watched someone almost get their head wiped off by a large case flying from one of the overhead compartments.

Holding his breath, Nico tried to lift himself up from the airline seat, feeling the pain rushing through the nerves of his broken right leg. He hissed and tried not to shout in pain, yet grunted as he tried to maneuver his way out of the fuselage. Almost no one else had survived in his section. There had only been one person, and Nico assumed that the man hadn't known he was alive, too.

Nico made it halfway toward where the light was coming from, on the outside, when a girl with brown skin, blue jeans, and a dirt stained t-shirt peered into the compartment he'd been struggling in. She stared at him with her large, brown eyes before rushing towards him, ducking around unmoving bodies, and offering her assistance. "Sir, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Maybe a broken leg, but who's to say," Nico bit through the pain, trying to laugh it off with his nicest sarcasm.

"Let me get you out of here," she said, putting his arm around her shoulders without asking permission. They had to walk sideways and she needed to move a body or two a few times. Nico was amazed at how calm she appeared, but when he got a clear look at her face as they reached the outside of the fuselage, he could truly see how terrified she was.

He sighed, limping along at her side. "Thank you."

"I suppose no one believed there was anyone still alive in there," she shouted over the commotion fraying out on all points of the crash's aftermath. "But I thought I'd check. You never know. And you're welcome…"

"Nico!" he responded. "My name is Nico."

She tightened her grip on his waist with her other hand as they almost tripped. Nico hissed in pain again, and she looked at him apologetically. "I'm Kala."

"I'm sure it would have been lovely to meet you, Kala, any time but right now," he chuckled, teeth still clenched. "You wouldn't happen to know if there's a doctor on board, would you?"

Kala lowered him slowly onto a patch of shaded sand, near to where a boy with curly, brown hair was laying face down, trying her best not to disturb his injured leg. It seemed inevitable, though. "Sorry, Nico. I don't know," she said, "but I can try to find one."

Nico glanced up at her, panting from the agony a few inches below his knee. "My friend, you aren't going to abandon me, are you?"

She flashed him a smile. "I'll be back."

— — —

Sidney flopped onto the sand. She'd spent the aftermath of the big crash running around aimlessly, in a pathetic panic. There wasn't anyone she could be looking for; she'd gotten on the flight alone. The only people she could even think of sticking near would have been the tense, Korean couple she'd been sitting across from for the duration of the flight that had been, well, still in mid-air.

Her blonde waves frayed out across the grains beneath her as she tried to find comfort in the thought that she hadn't lost anyone on the flight, at least. It was almost easy being alone in this situation. There was no one to look for after the crash. She just needed to make sure she had all her limbs.

Sidney had tried to help the other passengers to the best of her ability, but there wasn't much beyond CPR and pulling people's bodies away from gases and smoke that she could do on her own. Even pulling bodies became too difficult for her to do by herself. She didn't give up; she simply didn't know how she could help.

Maybe she had, in her own indirect way, given up. Sidney rolled onto her back and rubbed sand off the fronts of her sweaty shoulders.

"Tired?" a voice asked. Sidney sat up; a dark-skinned man towered over her. She didn't say anything, but perhaps her face gave it away. "I know how you feel. I saw you helping people away from the wreckage, though, Miss. You're very brave."

"I gave up," she already said, half cutting in. "I could have kept going—and I should have—but I didn't."

"Now, don't beat yourself up over it. I could've helped a lot more, as well. But you did far more than I'd done," he said. "To be honest, though, I was searching for my research partner. After the crash, he was gone."

Sidney honestly couldn't say that she knew how he felt—not at the moment, at least. She'd lost someone before, but a long time ago. "I'm sorry."

The man paused. "He might not be really lost, in the morbid sense. He could be alive. For all we know, he could be, I don't know, wandering around out there in the jungle, right?" He laughed. "Listen to me, a scientist trying to draw theories out of thin air. My name is Evan, by the way. Evan Ingram." He stuck his hand out towards her as he sat in the sand in front of her.

She completed the handshake. "Sidney Hawke."

— — —

The smell of tobacco smoke filled her nose before she'd even gotten close to the source. Since the crash, Kala might have contracted a complete aversion to the smell of things burning in general. Then again, she'd never been partial to the scent of smokers in the first place.

"That can't be good for your lungs," she said, sitting next to him.

"They're my lungs, Bangladesh."

"I'm from India," she sighed. "I guess a redneck wouldn't be able to tell, though, right?"

The man grinned at her, brought the cigarette away from his lips, and blew smoke out towards her. "Well, aren't we a cheeky lil' gal?"

Kala watched as he tossed his cigarette into the sand, her gaze growing quietly triumphant.

"Chill out there, bindi. I didn' do it for you. It was a nasty one, got it?" He spit into the sand soon after. "Now if you'll excuse me, I got things to do."

Kala shrugged, waiting until he'd turned his back; she kicked more sand over the dying cigarette and tucked her knees under her chin. The smell did nothing but send her into a state of queasiness.

"Hey," Joe approached a new group of three. "Is there anything I can do to help? I'm feeling pretty useless right now."

The Arab man added a few more pieces of wood to a growing fire. "The fire; we need to make it bigger."

"I was gonna go off and find some more wood," said the other man, in a British accent. "I'm Charlie, by the way. And this is—"

"Sayid," Sayid said, as if to say he was completely capable of introducing himself.

Joe turned to the last in the group, a girl.

"I'm Sidney," she said. "What's your name?"

"Joe."

"Joe," she said. "Like he said, we need help with the fire. Can you help?"

"Can I help? Of course I can."

"Brilliant," said Charlie, with a smile.

— — —

No more than twenty minutes later, both Joe and Sidney were headed back to the beach with arms full of branches or sticks they'd collected. Joe had found a few thick branches that he could carry as well, and he even gave one to Sidney for show. The two of them hadn't spoken much throughout the whole duration of the firewood search. Just now, they were on the cusp of interesting conversation.

"So where are you from, Sidney?"

"Not from Sydney, Australia, in case you were hoping to crack a joke there," she replied. "Some weirdo on the plane did. I'm American, though I can do a pretty nice Australian accent, too. Every summer, I go to Australia."

"I wasn't necessarily looking to crack a joke," he chuckled. "But if the opportunity presented itself, I would have gone for it."

"Technically, the opportunity did present itself—oof—"

"Gotcha!" Joe reached out and caught her by the arm before she toppled to the jungle floor. Instead, the bundle of sticks Sidney had garnered scattered all over. "Oh."

"Dammit," Sidney looked back at the large root jutting out.

"No, don't worry. I'll help," said Joe, shifting the weight of his own branches to his other arm.

"It's okay, it's okay. Don't drop your own bundle, I'll get mine. You should bring it back to Sayid and the fire soon," she said as she crouched down. "At least me falling saved you from falling," she attempted to laugh, but the fresh scrape on her knee wasn't helping.

"Are you sure? You shouldn't be out here all by yourself, Sidney. You don't know what's out here."

"I'll be fine. I'm a big girl."

Joe, reluctant, bit his lip and took a step backwards. "If you say so, Sid."

"I do. Go on back, I'll catch up in no time. I'm fast," she said. Joe glanced at her with a sorry smile and headed forward to the beach.

— — —

"Someone told me that you're a doctor," said Jasmine as she approached the man Hurley had pointed out for her. She wiped more sweat off of her forehead, waiting for his response.

He shielded his eyes from the sun. "Yes, I am. I am a doctor."

Sighing with relief, Jasmine knelt next to him and said, "Thank goodness. In that case, would you mind looking me over?"

He hesitated. "Um—"

"I'm three and a half months pregnant. Don't be fooled, I'm merely good at covering it up."

"Oh. Yeah, sure, I'll take a look. Now, I don't know how much I can do, given the fact that no one has exactly found an ultrasound on the island," he said, laughing. She laughed with him to let the tension ease up a bit. "I'm gonna need you to lift up your shirt, then, um—"

"Jasmine."

"Jasmine."

She did as he requested, bringing the hem of her shirt upwards to reveal her growing bump. "Someone told me that your name is Jack?"

"Yep, that's me."

She smiled as his hands ran gently over her baby bump.

"There really isn't much that I can do this early on in your pregnancy, Jasmine. As long as you're still comfortable and you get some good food in you as soon as possible, I think you'll be fine. But if you're truly concerned, I would suggest that you get an ultrasound as soon as we're off this island. Come see me if you experience any pain, though. Oh, and, try to take it easy."

"Thank you, Jack."

"Maybe you and Claire should stick together," he said, gesturing over to the girl who was obviously much farther along than Jasmine. "It's not like the two of you could get into any trouble combined, you know?" he said, patting her shoulder.

Jasmine gave a single laugh. "I know. The two of us could start some kind of club now, couldn't we?"

Jack seemed like he would have laughed, but he hesitated, with a question on his mind. "Jasmine, was your husband on the flight?"

She paused, just as he did, and bit her lip. "Yes," she answered, knowing that what could come after that word might not end well. "Well, he was sitting further back than I was—towards the end of the plane. He, um, didn't think that he'd be taking the same flight as me until he had a chance to switch flights. Someone had already filled up the seats in the middle section, though. So, we were separated," she said, standing to leave soon after she finished.

"You know that the tail section broke off, right?"

Jasmine felt like she'd been jolted with electricity. "Yes, I do."

"I'm not saying that he can't be out there. I'm just making sure you know."

"Thank you, Jack," she said, bearing a completely straight face. "That's very kind of you."

— — —

Nighttime had possessed the beach by now. Jasmine perched herself a few feet from Claire. Every now and then, they engaged in a conversation, though most of the time, it was short and had a fair dose of awkwardness.

Kala found herself alone, with a copy of _Hamlet_ in her hands; she'd happened upon it in the wreckage earlier. It was oddly comforting to have that piece of literature with her, as if she were attempting to use it to convince herself that Hamlet's problems were so much more screwed up than her own. Next to her was Nico, who had been told by Dr. Jack not to move too much and that, no, his leg wasn't actually broken—just heavily bruised. Nico wasn't about to admit how much he felt like a wimp, or an idiot to anyone, though. He gazed out at the ocean, wiggling his toes underneath a layer of sand.

Mercutio tried to find some peace on his own, but nothing seemed to work for him. He closed his eyes a few times, and he'd draped an airplane blanket over his head to try to comfort himself. Nothing was working. Every few minutes, he sighed like he was counting intervals with his own breathing. He couldn't think of much else to do, not when he hadn't even found his own bag yet.

Joe was next to Sidney, who was playing rock-paper-scissors with Evan. It was past their tenth round for sure, but there wasn't much else they could think of to do that wouldn't bring back gloomy musings of lost people or pessimistic thoughts of how long it would take them to be rescued.

Out of nowhere, though, the sound of metal screeching against itself resonated throughout the beach, silencing everyone for just a moment. And then a current of panic flowed through them all. Everyone turned towards the jungle, watching as the trees swayed methodically with the horrific sounds that continued to come from it.

"What was that?" someone asked.

Evan was one of the first on his feet, getting closer even as Sidney reached out to stop him. He was too quick. The sound of yelling soon picked up from the distance, and it was getting closer and closer.

A man about Joe's age got up from where he was sitting and moved closer as well. The girl that had been sitting next to him was eager to protest. "Boone!"

More trees in the jungle were being smashed as the sound continued and the sound of a man hollering became louder until it burst through the front of the jungle and the source of it fell to his knees a few feet from the edge of trees.

Evan was the first one to approach him, running when he appeared to recognize the voice. "Danny? Danny!"

Boone followed soon after Evan as quickly as he could, helping Evan get Danny to his feet.

"Danny, man, are you hurt?" Evan asked. "Hey, speak to me. It's me, Evan!"

But Danny didn't answer; couldn't answer with anything other than his expression; it was his eyes that said nearly everything. It was like he'd been frightened into silence.

Sidney chewed on her bottom lip and stuck close to Joe as Charlie gravitated towards the two of them. "Terrific," he said.

Joe nodded. "Oh yeah, man. This is just great."

* * *

**Please review (but no pressure!)**

Thanks again~**  
**


	2. Chapter 2: White Menace

**A/N:** It's been fast, and I know no one's even reviewed yet, but I've had a few chapters of this fic already drafted for a while. I don't know if people on FFN (I haven't been very active on here, sadly) are generally into long, short, or medium chapters—or something along those lines. Most of the chapters I've written for Oceanic Blue are kind of longish. Anyway, here's chapter two. Please review! Thank you!

* * *

**On the plane, Oceanic 815**

Joe sat up in his chair. His back was aching from terrible posture sprouting from a lousy attitude. He made an attempt to brush it off and sit straight. _Chin up, Joseph. Try to feel a little better about life. So what if it sucks at the moment?_

Even through his headphones, Joe could hear the sound of the person in front of him tapping what sounded like a metal ring against the seat's armrest. He'd been at it for the past five minutes.

"You alright, sir?" a flight attendant asked, and for a moment, Joe thought she was talking to him, not the guy one seat ahead. The metal tapping had since stopped, and Joe thankfully closed his eyes, focusing on Zeppelin seeping into his ears.

But it was only a matter of time until that same constant, rapid tapping returned, pissing Joe off to no end. And then, it stopped again. The guy in front of Joe nearly rocketed from his seat, maneuvering his way down the aisle in the direction of the bathrooms.

Joe quickly settled back into his own world, into his music. He sighed and ditched the idea of straightening his back again. Sure, his sister would have scolded him for sitting that way, but it wasn't like she could force him. _Joe_ was the older sibling; he would always win, it was part of nature—sort of. It wasn't like she'd speak to him or he'd speak to her again, either.

That one thought of his sister sent his mind reeling and rewinding to her face again, despite his need to fast-forward and forget about what happened. He shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets and kept his eyes closed for some peace, but his body began to feel too warm and trapped. The slight jab of turbulence wasn't going helping. Especially when it happened again, and again.

And again.

"Ladies and gentleman, the Captain has turned the 'fasten seatbelt' sign on. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts."

Until he heard the flight attendant's voice again, he'd almost forgotten where he was. His eyes shot open. He and the rest of the passengers were all being jostled about in their seats. Grabbing onto the armrest on either side, he clenched his jaw, bracing himself for anything. And when the oxygen masks fell from their compartments, he felt a sickness rumbling in his stomach that shouldn't be attributed to the plane's hard trembling.

**On the Island**

"Hey."

Joe looked up. Sidney. "Hey."

"So, you went with Jack and Kate?"

"And Charlie," said Joe.

"And Charlie, sorry. Did you guys find anything?" she asked, and then grew even more quizzical. "You look kind of down, Joe. What's up?"

He sighed. "I'll tell you; but only you. I don't want to get chewed out because I started going around spilling the beans. Promise me you won't say anything."

"Of course. I promise," she folded her legs underneath her in the sand.

Joe sighed again. "We found the cockpit and the pilot in the middle of the jungle. So then we asked him if he knew where the transceiver was, and he did. We have that now. Good. But, the thing is, unless we can get the transceiver to work, no one is going to find us. They're looking for us in the wrong place," he didn't watch her face slip into disbelief, but he knew it was happening all the same. "Bad. The pilot told us that we were about a thousand miles off course. Even worse. Therefore, we _need_ to get the transceiver to work."

Sidney suddenly lit up. "Sayid."

"What about Sayid?"

"He's amazing with electronics—I talked to him for a while yesterday after bringing firewood back."

"Oh. All he and I talked about was the weather," Joe remarked mundanely.

"_Seriously_, we could ask him to help out!"

Joe pressed his lips together in a hard line. "I'm not sure."

"Don't be racist."

"What? No! Sidney!"

"I'm kidding."

"Oh. Dammit," he said, feigning amusement. "When I say 'I'm not sure,' I mean I don't want to spread the _bad_ part of the news around."

Sidney folded her arms, raising her eyebrow. "You just want to make sure they still like you."

"They?"

"Jack, Kate, Charlie—well, I think Charlie will always like you. You two could be brothers for all we know."

"Except we don't really look alike," said Joe, pinching a piece of his brown hair between his fingers, then poking his own nose which was straighter and less round than Charlie's.

Sidney nudged him with her elbow. "Details, details. Are we gonna ask Sayid for help or not?"

Joe heaved his third sigh of the conversation. "We—we should ask Jack first. He might already have a plan."

"So is Jack our island leader?"

Joe shrugged. "He's a doctor. I guess people would rather have him in charge. They'd trust him more than some old—"

"_Tell them I made the plane crash!"_

"_The shoe fits, buddy!"_

Both Sidney and Joe stopped, turning around. She squinted, looking out at the scene that was starting to play out in the distance, the sand kicking up: two men attacking each other.

"What's going on over there?" Joe stood up and gave Sidney his hand.

"It's Sayid, and some other guy—"

"Sawyer. His name is Sawyer," he said.

"How long do you think that's been going on?" she asked.

Joe shook his head. "Well, people are crowding around them," he said, watching Jack and Michael run towards the two fighting men.

"Looks like they could use some help," she remarked, letting go of Joe's hand and sprinting towards where Jack was holding off Sawyer from Sayid. Joe followed, right behind her.

By the time they both reached the scene, Sawyer and Sayid had calmed by a notch—but both men had a look in their eyes like they would've maimed each other if given enough time.

"—just pointin' this out: The guy sittin' next to him didn't make it."

"Thank you so much for observing my behavior," said Sayid.

"What's going on?" Joe spoke up.

"The redneck thinks that I crashed the plane," Sayid stated, matter-of-factly.

"Well, I did see them pull you out of the line before we boarded," said Sawyer.

Sidney scoffed. "Ever heard of racial profiling? It happens to some middle-aged women, too."

"What the hell are you talkin' bout, missy?"

She ignored him.

"Loudmouth kid," he scoffed. "They aren't the problem—_he's_ the problem!"

Sayid tried getting to Sawyer again, attempting to swing a fist at him, but was held back again.

"Come on, bring it!"

"_Stop_!"

Sidney turned, and there was Kate, standing there and glaring at the two men like a pair of barbarians. Everyone grew quiet, including Sawyer.

"We found the transceiver, but it's not working," Kate declared. "Can anybody help?"

"Yes," Sayid spoke up, "I might be able to."

Sidney faced Joe. "_Told_ you he could help."

"Okay, okay, sorry I doubted you," Joe put his hands up as Sawyer insulted Hurley.

"Hey! Give it a break," Jack shouted, staring the southern man down.

Joe nudged Sidney like they'd talked out of turn in class, and they both started laughing like it, too, albeit quietly. He propped her elbow up on her shoulder. "Looks like we've got an antagonist already, huh?"

"I'm sure Sawyer is just…_deeply_ misunderstood," she whispered.

Joe was close to rolling his eyes. "See, I like thinking of things in a literary sense. We have our hero, and we have an antagonist. Conflict is already seeping in. The monster in the jungle is just another storyline that I'm sure we'll all bet or place theories on eventually."

"Monster?" Sidney asked, her voice still low.

"Oh. Well, that's what I call it. It kind of, um, chased us…when I was in the jungle with Charlie. And Kate. And Jack."

Sidney took him by the elbow and led him aside, away from where Sayid was examining the transceiver where and Sawyer was disgruntled over everyone's trust in the Iraqi. "What _was_ it? It's probably the same thing that went after Danny, right?"

"Danny?"

"The guy who came out of the jungle last night, screaming. Remember him?"

"Oh. Right. Danny. Maybe it was."

"Then what was it?" she prodded.

Joe hesitated, wringing his hands. "I don't know. No, Sidney, don't look at me like that. I do _not_ know—I only heard it, but it was close, okay? Now I don't want to talk about this anymore. I've had enough—I want it out of my head and out of my thoughts. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a walk on the beach so I can _forget_ about it," he said, beginning to leave before she could stop him.

"You shouldn't be by yourself! Joe! It's dangerous out there!" she called after him.

"I'll be fine," he said over his shoulder.

Charlie tapped the girl's shoulder, startling her. "Oh, sorry, love. Hey, what's eating him?"

"I don't know. Seems like it's more than whatever's in the jungle."

"Oh, that. I wouldn't be surprised. We were having a nice conversation yesterday on our way back, and then suddenly he started to get uncomfortable and, I don't know, upset. I thought maybe it was something I said, but I didn't want to ask him."

"Strange," she said. "I hope he's alright."

"Me, too."

Joe had gotten deep into the jungle since he had left Sidney and the others on the beach. He figured that some of the others would be out and about trying to fix the transceiver or get a signal, or whatever they needed by now. Part of him didn't want to run into anyone, but part of him did.

There was something in him that wanted to be alone, to be surrounded by nothing else but the jungle and what might inhabit it. But there was also the problem of what could be out there, and what had chased or frightened that man, Danny. Evan's friend. Sidney's friend Evan's friend Danny. Were Sidney and Evan even friends?

"Heads up!"

"Huh?"

Stupidly, Joe looked up, just in time to get clock in the forehead by a mango.

"Ow! Dammit!"

She snickered. "Your name is Joe, right?"

Joe pressed his hand to his head, where the sharp sting of pain resided. "Yes—ow, what the heck? Why did you throw a friggin' mango at me?"

"Joe, you need to learn that when someone says 'heads up' they really mean 'get the hell out of the way.'"

"You surprised me, that's all."

"Also, I didn't throw it at you. I was trying to pick a few of them, and that one happened to fall when I shook the tree too hard," she explained. "You should get back to the beach. The doctor is still there, I think."

"It's not that bad, I'll be fine. The spots I'm seeing will go away soon, I'm sure."

She bit her lip in an attempt not to laugh.

"Just my luck," he said, rubbing his head repeatedly. "Who are you, anyway? Please tell me you were on the plane, because I really don't want to believe that our plane crashed in India. Not that there's anything _wrong_ with being in India—just that we were definitely not headed in that direction…"

She kept laughing. "My name is Kala. Thanks for recognizing that I'm Indian, though. For some reason that man Sawyer called me 'Bangladesh.' He's a very strange man. But he's interesting, I'll give him that much."

"Sawyer, huh?"

"He also called me 'bindi.' He has quite an affinity for nicknames. Anyway, want some mango, Joe?"

"Yeah…nicknames. Oh, mango? Um, sure, I'll take some," he touched his forming bruise gingerly. "I never had breakfast today."

Kala clicked her tongue at him. "That's the most important meal of the day."

"I haven't been having a very good day, Kala."

"Well, see, that might be why. Not having breakfast can screw up your whole day—shh!"

Joe flinched as she put her hand on his shoulder and shoved him behind her. "What, what?" He whispered, outwardly surprised at her movements.

"I hear something."

The bushes around them rustled with the sounds of someone approaching. Kala suddenly took out a stone—a sharp one. Joe's eyes widened, but he stayed silent, keeping his panicking internal. _What the hell is she doing? Why does she have that?_

Then, instead of a danger popping out of the bushes and branches, Sidney appeared, combing leaves out of her blonde waves. She gave a sigh of relief, but soon her eyes focused on the rock Kala was holding in her hand and she jumped back. "Whoa! It's just me, um—Joe?"

"Sidney, what are you doing out here?"

"Looking for you. I checked just about everywhere on the beach, but you were gone. I figured you were in the jungle," she said, watching Kala put her weapon away. "It wasn't that hard to find you once I started. What happened to your head?"

"Kala dropped a mango on me," he answered as he rushed his hand to the bruise again. So, it was noticeable already.

Sidney nodded and drew closer to the two of them.

"I still hear something," said Kala. Sidney grew quiet and nodded in agreement.

"_What_ exactly are you two hearing?"

"Voices," the girls both replied.

Joe sighed, exasperated. "Great. Perfect—"

"Shut up," Sidney elbowed him. "And stay quiet."

"Is that _growling_?" Joe asked, but was promptly shushed again.

"_My god."_

"_What the hell's that?"_

"_Something's coming."_

Sidney turned to Joe. "That was Kate's voice."

"Yeah."

"It's coming _towards_ us, I think," said Charlie's voice.

"Charlie!" Joe called.

An animal suddenly roared, cutting everyone off. They were silent for a moment, until Kala shouted, "Everyone, run!"

Joe and Sidney wasted no time. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her along behind him, though tall grasses and through bushes. He knew Kala was somewhere behind them, though.

"Joe—argh, let me go!" Sidney demanded. "She's still back there."

Reluctantly, he released his grip and watched her disappear. A mere few seconds after, he regretted it.

"Kala!" Sidney called when she ran back, but the Indian girl was nowhere to be found. "No, no… Why did we leave her behind?" _Why did I come back here?_

The sound broke her thoughts again. It was an animal: a wild animal, and it was probably angry.

"_Go! Go!" _

She could hear Sayid's voice not too far from where she was running and tried to run parallel with it, but she wasn't fast enough to outrun whatever was chasing her. As soon as she burst through the next bought of tall grass, she saw a massive, blurred image of white fur speeding at her.

"Sawyer—!" Kate shouted.

Several gunshots burst through the bear and ended the snarling. It dropped to the ground, giving a thud that Sidney felt shake her feet only a foot from her. Then, it was quiet. Sidney was nearly paralyzed. She had goosebumps all over.

Everyone began to gather around, speechless. Sidney felt someone come up behind her and knew that it was Kala when she circled around the large, white bear.

"I think you owe me your life, Goldilocks," Sawyer remarked, lowering the gun, his narrowed eyes boring into the frozen girl's wide ones.

"That's…that's a polar bear," said Kate, in a low voice.

"Sidney, are you okay?"

She finally moved, bringing her eyes up from the still polar bear. It was Joe looking at her; well, most of them were staring at her, or going back and forth from the polar bear to the girl it'd gotten close enough to kill. Yet, Sawyer hadn't let it. Whether it was to save himself in the long run or not, or to save the others, he had _saved_ _her_.


End file.
